Heartlessness
by owlpostagain
Summary: Three times that Roxas leaves Organization XIII...and Axel. one-shot. AkuRoku slash.


**I am too old to be writing Kingdom Hearts fanfiction. These drabbles are dedicated to my stupid brat sister xTheTwilightPrincessx. If you haven't read her work she's fabulous, go go go.**

* * *

I.

The dull echo of his heels hitting the deserted street ricocheted off the surrounding buildings, pounding against his ears. Roxas ignored the blur of blacks and grays and whites crowding his peripheral vision; his singled-minded task was to make it to the edge of the city without –

The flash of red wouldn't have been quite so loud in another world, the dusky shades of Twilight Town or the bright splashes against the night-dark Halloween Town. Here, on the palate of shadows, not colors, Axel's hair shone brighter than any of the distant neon signs. Roxas couldn't ignore it if he wanted to.

"Your mind's made up?"

Axel's voice was light, casual, as though he were asking Roxas if he had decided on which flavor of ice cream he wanted to try today. Roxas hated him for it, but he knew it was an irrational hatred. Nobodies couldn't feel, so how could Axel be affected by Roxas' decision. Still, he was here, and for that reason alone Roxas could consent to give him one final chance.

"Why did the keyblade choose me? I have to know."

Axel didn't answer; Roxas knew he wouldn't. He stood still for a breath, maybe two, before resigning himself to this reality. Axel knew, but he would never tell Roxas. He picked up his feet again.

"You can't turn on the organization; you get on their bad side, and they'll destroy you!"

Axel's boot hit the ground even louder than Roxas' had, and he sounded like something that Roxas didn't know. Feelings, maybe, and a voice Roxas didn't recognize hissed words he didn't understand through his head; _anger, fear, misery, bitterness, desperation_…

Maybe he didn't recognize these words, but he knew the power behind the words he was already wrapping his tongue around; knew that they would reveal whatever _feelings_ Axel had towards Roxas' departure. He threw them over his shoulder with a casual ease he'd learned from Axel himself, willing his voice not to shake and his eyes to stay forward.

"No one would miss me."

His feet once again pounding the pavement drowned out any auditory reactions Axel may have had, and he had rounded the last corner before Axel's words blew through his ears on a gentle gust of wind.

"That's not true!"

_Fierce_, the voice, the familiar one from his dreams of the boy in red, hissed again in Roxas' mind.

"I would."

_Anguish. Love._

Love.

Roxas froze, but only for a moment. He recovered quickly, whirled on his heel, his cloak spinning behind him and twisting around his legs. His steps were quick and light as he retreated back to Axel's perch against the wall, the steps he used before summoning his keyblade in the face of an attack.

"What do you know about _missing_?"

He laughed, but it was not their usual giggling laughter. Roxas' laugh was harsh, cruel, as stinging as the comment he'd just thrown in Axel's face. He'd never realized he was capable of such a sound. Axel leveled him with a stare, green eyes flashing. For a moment, the tattoos on his cheeks glistened as though they were real tears.

"Have you ever held your breath underwater until you were so deprived of oxygen that you were longing for air? That's what missing feels like, Roxas. That's what missing you feels like."

Roxas' gaze held no trace of emotion as he glared back up at his best friend, his chin held high because he was resolved, not because he needed to to see.

"Enjoy drowning, then."

Roxas heard a noise that sounded like a body hitting a stone wall, or maybe a floor, but he'd already turned away from the flashes of red and green and _hurt_. He left his best friend, gasping for breath as though he'd been physically hit and whispering his name like a plea, and in that moment Roxas knew for certain that he, like almost every other Nobody he knew, was heartless.

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II.

The dull echo of his heels hitting the deserted street ricocheted off the surrounding buildings, pounding against his ears. Roxas ignored the blur of blacks and grays and whites crowding his peripheral vision; his singled-minded task was to make it to the edge of the city without –

The flash of red wouldn't have been quite so loud in another world, the dusky shades of Twilight Town or the bright splashes against the night-dark Halloween Town. Here, on the palate of shadows, not colors, Axel's hair shone brighter than any of the distant neon signs. Roxas couldn't ignore it if he wanted to.

"Your mind's made up?"

Axel's voice was light, casual, as though he were asking Roxas if he had decided on which flavor of ice cream he wanted to try today. Roxas hated him for it. He wanted Axel to _feel_, he wanted Axel to _hurt_ the way he did, the way that made his stomach churn and the space between his ribs ache and the corner of his eyes prick and burn even when he screwed them up tight. He begged Axel to answer him, just this once, to give him an excuse to turn around and walk right back into the only home he knew.

"Why did the keyblade choose me? I have to know."

Axel didn't answer. Roxas deflated, even though he knew he wouldn't. He stood still for a breath, maybe two, before resigning himself to this reality. Axel knew, but he would never tell Roxas. He picked up his feet again.

"You can't turn on the organization; you get on their bad side, and they'll destroy you!"

Axel's boot hit the ground even louder than Roxas' had, and he sounded like something that Roxas didn't know. Feelings, maybe, and a voice Roxas didn't recognize hissed words he didn't understand through his head; _anger, fear, misery, bitterness, desperation_…

He had heard of desperation before, had read it on a poster tacked to a wall in Twilight Town. He didn't really understand it, but something in him knew that this was an emotion he could use. He hissed out words between clenched lips, hoping, begging for a reaction other than careless indifference. He threw them over his shoulder with a casual ease he'd learned from Axel himself, willing his voice not to shake and his eyes to stay forward.

"No one would miss me."

He took a breath, then a step. If Axel wanted to stop him, he would have by now; would have yelled or whispered or taken two easy steps and grabbed his shoulders, and the prickly feeling was back in his eyes again, and his vision swam…

"That's not true!"

_Fierce_, the voice, the familiar one from his dreams of the boy in red, hissed again in Roxas' mind.

"I would."

_Anguish. Love._

Love.

Roxas knew that one; Axel himself had explained it to him. He froze, halfway around the last corner, one hand already midway through the air to open his last dark corridor.

"Why?"

His voice was small and wavering, but if the sudden rumble of hurried footsteps and the fingers bunching the sleeve of his coat were any indication, Axel had heard him anyway. The fingers clutched at him, _desperately_ Roxas thought, and Roxas could feel the heat of the fiery appendages through the leather buffering his skin.

And suddenly the redhead's other hand was on his neck, curled from his jaw to his hair and tilting his head far enough back that Axel's burning lips could sear Roxas' own with a fire that wasn't just the mark of his control of flames. Roxas grabbed fistfuls of collar and zipper between his fingers and held the taller boy to him, lips and tongues and teeth clashing until the dire need for missing oxygen separated them by barely an inch.

"Roxas…"

"Tell me about the keyblade."

Roxas panted. Begged. Pleaded. He had a passing thought that this might be what desperation was, as he grabbed even tighter at the leather coat and metal zipper, willing Axel to give him a reason to stay.

The redhead's lips crossed the space between them again, briefly, softly, quietly, and Roxas knew the answer. He wasn't surprised.

"I'm sorry,"

Roxas nodded, his forehead pressed against Axel's as the older boy whispered against his lips. He pulled himself away with a herculean force he hadn't known he was capable of, careful not to turn back for one last look. He knew, in that moment, that Saix and Xemnas and all of Organization XIII had been wrong. Nobodies had to have hearts. What else could explain the throbbing, burning ache between his ribs as his own heart broke?

* * *

III.

The dull echo of his heels hitting the deserted street ricocheted off the surrounding buildings, pounding against his ears. Roxas ignored the blur of blacks and grays and whites crowding his peripheral vision; his singled-minded task was to make it to the edge of the city without –

The flash of red wouldn't have been quite so loud in another world, the dusky shades of Twilight Town or the bright splashes against the night-dark Halloween Town. Here, on the palate of shadows, not colors, Axel's hair shone brighter than any of the distant neon signs. Roxas couldn't ignore it if he wanted to.

"Your mind's made up?"

Axel's voice was light, casual, as though he were asking Roxas if he had decided on which flavor of ice cream he wanted to try today. It wasn't the first time that Roxas had thought that maybe Axel sounded the most calm when he was feeling the most panicky. But Nobodies didn't feel, did they, so how could he be _feeling_ anything.

"Why did the keyblade choose me? I have to know."

Axel didn't answer; Roxas knew he wouldn't. He stood still for a breath, maybe two, before resigning himself to this reality. Axel knew, but he would never tell Roxas. He picked up his feet again.

"You can't turn on the organization; you get on their bad side, and they'll destroy you!"

Axel's boot hit the ground even louder than Roxas' had, and he sounded like something that Roxas didn't know. Feelings, maybe, and a voice Roxas didn't recognize hissed words he didn't understand through his head; _anger, fear, misery, bitterness, desperation_…

Roxas' mind whirled, groping at these foreign thoughts, scrambling to piece them together to explain the tightness in his chest and the prickling in the corners of his eyes. He squeezed them shut and clenched his fists, throwing words over his shoulder to just make the overwhelming dizziness _go away_.

"No one would miss me."

His feet once again pounding the pavement drowned out any auditory reactions Axel may have had, but it was impossible not to hear Axel when he raised his voice like that.

"That's not true!"

_Fierce_, the voice, the familiar one from his dreams of the boy in red, hissed again in Roxas' mind.

"I would."

_Anguish. Love._

Love.

Roxas froze, staring unseeingly ahead down the last stretch of alleyway between him and escape. Behind him, voice sounding smaller and more broken than he had ever heard, Axel whispered.

"I'd miss you, Roxas. Every single day."

And then he was there, so close to Roxas that the smaller boy could feel the other's body heat through his leather coat. Roxas clenched his eyes shut. He flexed his fingers, poised to summon his keyblade, but couldn't find the _heart_ to put behind the thought.

"What does missing feel like, Axel?"

Axel let out a long, shaky breath, his torso tense as he stood nearly chest to back with Roxas. He leaned forward, ignoring the tickle of Roxas' spiky hair against his nose and cheeks.

"Hold your breath," he hissed, his lips just behind Roxas' ear, "hold your breath until you can't possibly last another second without breathing, until your vision starts to fade and your ears are rushing and you can't imagine living another moment without the precious taste of oxygen on your tongue."

And Roxas, throwing caution and concern and pressing time-constraints to the ground, sealed his lips and nose with a gloved hand pressed to his face. He held his breath until the street before him swam, his peripheral vision fading until he could no longer see the sliver of red hair dusting the corner of his sight. Axel could have been gone, left him here alone and weakened, if not for the heat now radiating flush against his back and the lips still brushing the soft ridges of his ear.

"Breathe, Roxas."

And as the puffs of air and the little flick of tongue hit his cartilage, Roxas gasped, greedily sucking air into his oxygen-starved lungs. He lurched forward, panting, held upright only by the long, thin fingers suddenly encircling his heaving ribs.

"That is what missing you will feel like. The burning and the fear and the longing and the aching, without the aid of gasping for air at the end; because once you leave, Roxas, you can't come back. Not to the Organization."

"What about to you?"

Axel's hands clenched impossibly tight; Roxas was certain there would be ten long, finger-shaped bruises decorating his torso tomorrow morning. He held himself still, even keeping his breathing to a minimum, his every fiber waiting to hear the redhead's response.

The sharp twist of his ribs spun his body without his mind consciously doing so. Disorientated and surprised, Roxas found himself suddenly chest to chest with the taller boy, whose fingers were slowly sliding up his ribs to the collar of his coat. He held it so tightly that Roxas was sure the zipper's metal teeth must be cutting Axel's skin.

"Come back to me, Roxas. Go, find your answers, and if you still want to, come back to me. I'll wait. I promise."

And he was kissing him. None of the soft, sweet little press of flesh on flesh Roxas had felt that one time with Xion, but bruising, harsh, sharp angles and biting teeth and fire fire fire, and Roxas gave as good as he got, pressing himself against the redhead as he lifted himself up on his toes and sealed promise after promise between their lips.

Axel wrenched himself away with a noise that best resembled a sob. He licked his swollen lip and pressed a hasty kiss to Roxas' forehead, releasing the boy's coat as he raised one hand over Roxas' shoulder. The portal opened behind them with the barely audible hiss of air unzipping.

Roxas was gone before Axel opened his eyes.

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**I may be too old for fanfiction but I'll never be too old for reviews =)**


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